Joyce was eyeing the liquor cabinet. It was something she was not doing out of habit. It was right in front of her, right behind her father, actually who was in her line of sight, talking to someone while she stood beside him.
She had emptied the bottle of scotch, ordered two more and no one questioned anything about it.
So, so far, she could say that it had been all under control. Her urges, not husband, but apart from that, everything else was. But that was okay. Slowly, she was going to bring every thing in control and there was no need for her to panic.
As long as no one mentioned anything to disturb her peace, she was fine.
"Now, Joyce," her father, finally finished talking to the security fellow and turned to her, " I understand that you have been taking care of everything in your mothers absence—"
